#im that guy in blue clapping in the background SIR
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and the boyfriend of the year award goes to.........
#wwe#wweedit#sami zayn#jey uso#samijey#roman reigns#the bloodline#wwe gifs#wrestling#smackdown#wwe smackdown#friday night smackdown#stuff i made#he truly said jey might be willing to forgive you for all you did to him without a proper apology BUT IM NOT#im that guy in blue clapping in the background SIR#JEYS FACE JEYS FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACE#oh the post-show *** was insanely tender i just know it
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Imagine Steve/Avengers walking in to Tony entertaining two soldiers in the common room and being really confused because Tony??? Despises the military??? But then find out that those two soldiers are actually from the âfun-veeâ way back in IM 1 and Tonyâs fitting them with prosthetics.
ahhh this has been stuck in my head for DAYS anon! I donât necessarily agree with the assessment that Tony hates the military, per se (doing business with the military and the military industrial complex, however, and all that that toxic shit entails, definitely yes), BUT itâs such a heartbreaking/warming concept I had to run with it! I think I got it right with Air Force vs Army, but the movie was kinda vagueâIâm going off of the fact that the driver said âIâm an airman,â which you would not say if you were in the Army.
and since the airmen (and woman) Tony was traveling with in the Fun-Vee are canonically deceased, I thought Iâd have Tony do somethingâŚwell, Extremely Tony⢠to compensateâŚ
(::whispers:: also weâre just gonna pretend that the Bucky-killed-Tonyâs-parents-revelations of Cap 2/3 arenât a thing in this vaguely alternate MCU universe. la-di-da, la-di-daâŚ)
***
Itâs not surprising to walk into the Avengers common area and see Tony Stark working on something no one can quite comprehend. Thatâs par for the course, really, as commonplace as days that end in Y. Machines, phones, tablets, watches, the toaster after Hulk pressed the cancel button a little too hardâtheyâve seen Tony futzing with just about everything that exists in the Tower (and some things that donâtâcouldnâtâexist anywhere else except where Tony is).Â
What the team isnât expecting when the elevator doors open onto the communal floor that sunny Tuesday afternoon is a living room scattered with men and women in various states of modest undress, all of whom immediately pivot in place to take stock of the new arrivals. Three men, one woman, and in the middle of their protective circle is Tony, eyes blazing with the same thrill of invention he often gets in the lab, a pair of needle-nose pliers clenched in his teeth.
Steve in particular notices the way Tony looks, because heâs developed a bad habit of doing that over the past year and change, and heâs kind of helpless at this point. Tonyâs backlit by the afternoon sun, preoccupied with whatever heâs doing with the strange womanâs arm to distraction, and Steve canât be judged too harshlyâanyone with eyes would drag theirs over the exposed muscles of Tonyâs arms, the shift and flex of his shoulders, the firm taper of his waist, the pronounced curve of his aâ
âAre we, uh, interrupting something?â Clint has to shout to be heard above the music blasting from all corners of the room.Â
Tony looks up from his work and waves his free hand, the one that isnât wrist-deep in what looks remarkably like a prosthetic arm. He makes a âcut it offâ motion to his neck before taking the pliers out of his mouth while FRIDAY lowers the rock music to a dull background hum.Â
âHey! Sorry, I tried to keep it to the lab, but these guys wanted to see where the Avengers hang out, and I couldnât say no.âÂ
Steve tears his eyes away from Tony (who should really work the sweaty-and-disheveled-mechanic look more often) to take in the others in the room with him. Itâs a panorama of people, and the first thing Steve notices, besides their more obvious differences, is how comfortable they all are with each other, to the point that walking in on this moment feels invasive, almost rude.Â
The four are all of remarkably different builds and backgrounds, not a similarity between them: an African American man, no taller than Steve was before the serum, sits on the couch; a white man, thin as a rake and twice as tall, is reaching for a glass of water on the coffee table; an Asian American man, whose shoulders are somehow even broader than Steveâs, stands rigidly next to Tony, arms folded across his chest; and the lone woman, whose glossy black hair is wound tightly in a bun at the back of her head. Steve notes the beautifully elaborate Native American tattoo covering the expanse of her shoulders and upper back.Â
Then Steve notices the high-and-tights, the form-fitting, drab beige shirts theyâre all wearing, the combat boots lined up behind the loveseat, and he realizes, much like he did with Sam that morning in DC, ohâthese are my people.
âAh, well, welcome to the octagon!â Clint says with an easy smile, stepping forward to shake hands and say hello like a normal human being. Natasha gives Steve one of her looks before she and Sam follow him into the living roomâI donât know any more than you do.
Bruce, Wanda, and Vision stay behind with Steve to let the first wave through. Steve watches his teammates greet the airmen without fanfare, welcoming strangers into their private midst like itâs routine.Â
âDidnât know yâall would be around, else we wouldâve stayed outta sight.âÂ
Sam laughs, clapping the sitting man on the shoulder. âDude, if Tony told us you were here, I would have come downstairs and bugged you, myself.âÂ
âSure, PJâyou just wanted to see what real Air Force muscle looks like,â the man grins, flexing his barrel chest hard enough to strain his shirt. Sam guffaws and gives him a friendly punch to the shoulder, which the man returns in kind with a fist to the kidney.Â
Clint is already deep in conversation with the redheaded beanpole, who talks so fast itâs dizzying; Natasha is standing next to the third man, keeping her eyes forward, and together they watch Tony disappear back into his work, muttering things back and forth to each other, so quiet even Steve canât hear.Â
âI think all is clear,â Vision says smoothly, drifting forward with Wanda, who is visibly fascinated by the womanâs tattoo until she steps into the throng and sees something that makes her face fall.Â
Steve moves forward, curious and worried in equal measure. Bruce is hot on his heels.Â
ââI mean itâs crazy right? Itâs crazy, Tony Stark, Tony Stark calls us up out of the blue one day and says âYouâll be waiting six months to a year for a decent repair job, let alone a complete replacement, and I owe you guys, come on by Avengers Towerââ
Redhead is gabbing excitedly, gesticulating like Tony does when heâs in the mad depths of an invention binge. Steve sees the glint of metal and hears the whir of mechanisms working smoothly together in tandem and realizes both of the manâs hands are prosthetic.Â
âOh man! Oh, man! Captain, sir, wow, itâsâfuck, shit, my mama would kill me for swearing in front of you, fuckingâshit, sorry, fuckâah, damn it!â
Steve smiles and introduces himselfâCorporal Bill Levee, apparently, is just as talkative up close. For all that his hand is made of metal, his grip feels remarkably, tangibly real.Â
While Bill goes back to talking compound bows with Hawkeye, Steve looks at the man on the couch. Sam and Vision are now sitting on either side of him: both of his legs end at mid-thigh, and in their place are what look like brand-new metal limbs, designed to match his proportions exactly. The metal is dark, shiny, beautiful. He looks thrilled. He looks even more excited when Steve approaches, leaps to his feet and doesnât even balk at the fact that Steve is a head and change taller than him and a superheroâhe just steps right up to Steve and jabs him once in the shoulder with a grin.Â
âCaptain Rogers,â he says, and sticks out his hand. Steve shakes it. The man points a thumb at himself:Â âCaptain Freddy Harrison. A little after your time, sir, but an honor to meet you regardless.â
Bill is still talking a mile a minute behind him; Freddy sits back down on the couch and lets Steve continue his âCaptain America Meet-and-Greetâ but makes him promise to come back and swap stories, which Steve does, happily, even as his mind whirls. How does Tony know these people? Why are they here? Where did these prosthetics come from?Â
Bruce has joined Natasha, standing apart from the rest to talk to her and her new friend. Steve stops to say hello, as is only right, waiting until heâs entered the manâs line of sight to do so. Only then does he realize that the man has no line of sight, because both of his eyes are prosthetic.Â
âIâm not completely blind, Captain,â he says, voice low but good-humored. Next to him, Natasha smothers a smile behind her hand.Â
âSteve, this is Sergeant Daniel Kwon,â Bruce offers. The sergeant smirks and extends a handâthe eyes in his sockets look incredibly lifelike, but donât move even a fraction of a millimeter. They gleam, still, with an uncanny sense of knowing. Steve has a sneaking suspicion they see more than enough and match his original eyes perfectly.Â
âIâll still make an exception in your case, Sergeant Kwon,â Steve replies, shaking his hand, âfor not saluting a ranking officer.â
Dan chuckles under his breath.
âLetâs see your battlefield commission and then weâll talk rank, sir,â he says.Â
âUgh, men.â
Steve turns around, and thereâs Tony, flipping shut a panel high on the womanâs left arm with a smile. He pockets the pliers and drags the back of his forearm across his glistening forehead. Somewhere in the back of Steveâs mind, a saxophone is blaring.Â
Honestly, the intrusive thoughts he could deal with, but the fact that Tony looks this good after hours of hard labor really isnât fair.Â
âSeriously, barely two minutes in and you military guys are at it like frat bros at a kegger.â Tony looks sidelong at the woman, who rolls her shoulders with a pop and a groan. âHow do you manage?âÂ
âEasy,â she says, âI let them drink until they pass out and then I run back to the womenâs barracks with all their clothes so they have to walk across the TOC butt-naked.â Â
âI think we need to compare our respective strategies,â Natasha says, taking Wandaâs arm on her way to greet the other woman. âThis is Wanda; Iâm Natasha.â
The woman turns to face them. Her features are striking in a way that makes Steve think of old friends from the war, men he met on those rare occasions he had leave. Heâd listen to Native American Code Talkers tell stories of land and legacy and home, stories older than anything Steve had ever known. Heâd never been so humbled.Â
âDelores,â she replies, shaking their hands. âBut please, call me Del, or Iâll never hear the end of it.â
Steve looks at Tony, who gigglesâgigglesâand mouths âUmbridge.â Del must have ears like a bat, because she smacks him smartly with her prosthetic arm and Tony yelps before devolving into outright laughter. Steve could watch and listen to Tony laughâthat big, gut-wrenching cackle Tony thinks is unattractive but Steve thinks makes Tony look like happiness personifiedâall day.Â
The conversation devolves quickly from there, and within a couple of excitable minutes, the airmen are eager to get a look at the Avengersâ game room. They pile into the elevator, talking animatedly over each othersâ heads, placing bets and picking teams as the doors close.Â
In their wake, Steveâs ears are buzzing, and he realizes with a jolt that heâs now alone. With Tony.Â
It happens often enough that the fact itself isnât jarring, but something about being alone with disheveled-frazzled-happy-sweaty Tony sets Steveâs nerves on high alert. Tony is loose-limbed and relaxed, moving in and out of Steveâs space as he picks his way around the living room barefoot, looking for discarded tools.Â
âThere you are,â he coos at a tiny device that looks remarkably like a laser pointer. Knowing Tony, itâs probably a real laser. He pockets it, assumably to put away later (or fish out of the laundry at the last minute).Â
âWho are those people, Tony?âÂ
âFriends of friends,â Tony replies. Steve also knows Tony well enough to recognize his I am being deliberately vague voice when he hears it.Â
âUh-huh.â Steve sits on the arm of the sofa, legs stretched out in front of him. âAnd who are they really?âÂ
âWho wants to know?â
âMe,â Steve says gently, scratching his palms with dulled fingernails. âTheyâre strangers, and theyâre in our home. I think if you were in my shoes youâd want to know.âÂ
Tony stoops to pick up and pocket what looks like a dissected nine-volt battery. Steve kind of wants to ask, but heâs too distracted by Tonyâs ass in those black Levis to ask any cogent questions. Seriously, he wonders, are those painted on?
Only when Tony sighs, and quite heavily, that Steve realizes this was more than just a friendly house call (of sorts) on Tonyâs part. He watches Tony stand up, facing the floor-to-ceiling windows bright with the glow of sunset, and admires the way Tony suits the view so perfectly. He looks good all the time, but like thisâskin burnished gold, brown eyes honeyed by the lightâheâs something else. Someone Steve wants, desperately, but like most things in his life, knows heâs not allowed to have. Tony Stark is beyond him in so many ways. Reaching for him seems futile, so Steve stays on the ground, and looks.Â
Tony fidgets nervously with a mini Phillips Head screwdriver, twiddling it in his long, clever fingers as he stares out the windows at the city sprawled out beneath them.Â
âTheyâre from the same company as the guys in the convoy I was with when Iâwhen theyââ his voice sputters out before he can say the words. Steve doesnât push. He doesnât say anything. He just waits for Tony to gather himself. Itâs one of the hardest lessons heâs had to learn about Tony Starkâsometimes itâs better to let him get a handle on himself, rather than jump in and try to handle Tony for him. It doesnât change the fact that Steve wants nothing more than to hold his hand, now that itâs hanging at his side like its string was just cut. âA while back I dug into Air Force records, talked to Rhodey, got some names. Five people died in the hit that was meant for me. I figured, the least I could do was find five of their closest buddies who needed help.âÂ
Tony glances back at Steveâthe little smile on his lips could break Steveâs heart if he let it.
âAnd Iâve heard you talk about how convoluted the VA is when it comes to services and benefits and whatnot. I figured, my tech probably took their limbs, I should cut out the middle man and give them new ones, myself.âÂ
Something in Steveâs heart shifts irrevocably before kicking into a whole new gear. By the end of the sentence, Steve knows heâs going to do something incredibly rash, the only question is when.Â
Funnyâten minutes ago he was coming back from a team exercise, prepared to give Tony a friendly but firm talking-to about missing it, and instead here he is, breathless, heart racing, sitting and listening to Tony talk humbly about fixing people because he knows itâs the right thing to do. Because itâs the least he can do. And isnât that the wildest understatement Steveâs ever heard?Â
As if anything about Tony Stark could ever possibly be least.Â
âYou built them all those prosthetics?âÂ
âTop of the line!â Tony smirks, saluting Steve with his Phillips Head. âNothing more high tech in any of them than a heart rate monitor and some other odds and endsâno rocket launcher eyes, donât worry. I kept my baser urges in check with these.âÂ
âItâs good,â Steve blurts out, too loud and too fast. Tony inhales sharply, fingers clenching around the screwdriver hard enough his knuckles go white. Steve feels his face go hot and groans. âI mean, what you didâwhat youâre doingâis good, Tony. Itâs really generous of you to do that for those guys.âÂ
Steve crosses his arms across his chest to make himself feel safer, more contained. If he doesnât, who knows where these ridiculous feelings might go. He feels silly enough as it is, blushing and stammering while dressed in his uniform, sans helmet. Even Tonyâs probably wondering why heâs wasting his time talking to a red-white-and-blue fossil when he could be downstairs destroying Clint and the others at pool or showing the airmen around the tower, giving them the bells-and-whistles tour.Â
Tony looks at the floor, away from Steve. Steve feels it like a physical thing, Tony pulling away, retreating, wanting to hide. Amazing, how a man who almost literally wears his heart on his sleeve still thinks he doesnât have one.Â
âYeah, well,â Tony mutters, âitâs good practice, anyways.âÂ
Steveâs thoughts grind to a halt.Â
âPractice for what?âÂ
Tony starts moving around, shuffling back and forth across the living room floor, looking for something that probably isnât there. Steve knows when Tony is avoiding eye contact with himâit happens often enough.Â
âJust a pet project, nothing major. Hey, have you seen my cable knife anywhere?âÂ
âDid you leave it on the floor? TonyâŚâ
âI know, I know, the only thing worse is Legos, but I was busy! You canât blame me forâOW FUCK!âÂ
Like a shot, Steve is up and holding on to Tony so he doesnât hop backwards into the glass coffee table. One arm wrapped around his back and the other hand on his bicep, Steve steadies Tony as Tony searches underfoot for whatever hurt him.Â
He comes up with a magnet the size of a dime.Â
âHa,â Tony wheezes. âSpeaking of Legos.â He drops it into his pocket along with the laser pointer and whatever else is in there and hangs his head. Rubbing his brow, Tony says: âGod. I could sleep for a week after today.âÂ
Steve keeps holding Tony. He should let go, but opportunities like this so rarely present themselves. Plus, Tony feels so good under his hands, strong and warm and just small enough to envelope in a hug if Steve let himself, if Tony wanted him to, and Tony does look dead on his (adorable, bare) feetâŚ
âWhat else have you been working on today? This pet project?âÂ
âHah?â Tony breathes, still wincing slightly from stepping on the magnet. âOh yeah. For Bucky, when you find him. Ow, motherfucker, that hurtâŚâ
The thing about being in Tony Starkâs presence is, itâs so easy to lose the plot. Tonyâs mind moves faster than Steve could ever hope to match, mentally or physically; heâs always one pace behind, catching up. Itâs fine, though; he actually kind of likes it, being challenged the way Tony challenges him, delighting in the push-pull of their banter and debates, the way Tony teaches him about science and tech and the 21st century without being condescending. Steve gets to a point where he thinks he knows Tony, how he operates, how his brain worksâthen moments like this happen, and itâs like heâs sprinted smack into a brick wall.Â
âWhat?âÂ
âWhat?âÂ
âBucky, you saidâare you designing a new arm? For Bucky?âÂ
Tony seems to notice their position at that exact moment. Steve feels him blaze with heat where his hands are touching Tonyâs bare skin.Â
âUh. Maybe?â At Steveâs look, Tony bites his lip and sighs. âFine. Yeah, I am. Can you blame me? The thought of Sputnik wandering around the tower with that Cold War-era paperweight hanging off him when Iâve got brand-spanking-new, finely-tuned StarkTech all but ready to go? Perish, Steve, perish the thought.â
Tony is smiling up at him from his place in Steveâs arms, relaxed now, almost leaning into him, and all Steve can think is, he belongs here.Â
âWhatâs that face?â Tony asks, curious but still smiling. He pokes Steve in the middle of the forehead with a cheeky grin. âKeep frowning like that, your faceâll stick.â
When, apparently, is right now.Â
When Steve reaches up and takes Tonyâs hand, he gets to watch Tonyâs thoughts run into the wall, for once.Â
When he weaves their fingers together, he gets to watch Tonyâs mouth click shut and his eyes go wide. Super-hearing means he can count the beats of Tonyâs racing heart without having to feel them. Steveâs telegraphing every movement, every feeling, as much as he possibly can now that words seem to have escaped him.Â
He must manage okay, because the look that passes over Tonyâs face is the same one Steveâs seen in the mirror a thousand times since the day he realized he was halfway in love with Tony Stark: wonder, one part lost, one part found.Â
When he leans down, slowly, Steve gets to watch Tonyâs beautiful eyes flicker and shut. He counts the dark lashes where they rest on Tonyâs high cheekbones, breathes in his smell and listens to the shudder in his exhale before drawing him in for a kiss that draws everything else to a quiet, blissful blank.
When Tony pushes his fingers up into Steveâs hair, scratching lightly at the nape of his neck, Steve drops his arms around Tonyâs waist and pulls him in close with a soft groan. Heâs warm and messy and still holding that damn screwdriver, but he kisses Steve soft and eager like itâs the only thing he wants to do for the rest of his life, folds himself into Steveâs embrace like he wants to build a home right there in his arms.Â
One day Steve will tell him he already did, a long time ago, and it wasnât the least of anything.Â
***Â
more fics on AO3!
#rachel writes fic#I really should slow it down but this one would NOT leave me alone!#tony stark#steve rogers#stevetony#superhusbands#stony#stony fic#stovetuna#prompt fill#this is EXTREMELY SOFT#hopefully it makes up for the angst of the last one ;____;#also lol @ myself thinking âthis one will be shorterâ!!#UGH I FORGOT AIR FORCE RANKS ARE DIFFERENT DAMN IT!#blame my late night brain
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highlights of The Guy Who Didnât Like Musicals
this is gonna be a long one. spoilers ahead.
the CHOREOGRAPHY
not to mention the special effects, the team Went Off for this one
lauren lopezâs OUTFIT....,,,,,, im gay
lauren lopez in general
âwhere the Fuck is heâ
marielâs already kicking so much ass and itâs literally the first TWO MINUTES MAâAM CALM DOWN
âthe touring production OF M A M M A Â M I Aâ
âthe L A T T E H O T T I E as sheâs knownthroughoutthelandâ jesus god joey
âoh nooooooo so meeeeeanâ *flips guy off*
who the fuck organized these quick changes man theyâre killer
âiâm on Vocal Restâ âwhat??â âIâM ON VOCAL---â
âshe hired all her theatre friends and they will not S H U T T H E F U C K U P P P PâÂ
âdo you know how much of that money ACTUALLY GOES to the turtles???â âwell none of it i just made that upâ
âi NEVER miss a musical and if anyone thinks that makes me LESS of a man they can talk to my fUCKING GUNâ
lauren and joey smoking weed
âI MAY NOT HAVE A HOOOOOOMEEEEâ
fr though when does this soundtrack drop on spotify
âok..... ok............ OK...... okay.....*behind the set* ok.......â
âhe said he was coming home late last night...â âHE DIDNâT COME HOME AT ALL! .......i dunno i wasnât there.â
*musical theatre voice* âSo whAt dO yOU WanT, pAuL???â
*singing beautifully* âi want you to choke me..........while i jerk off.........â
âHELLO?????? PLEASE G O D, I JUST WANT A BLACK COFFEEâ
The Tip Songâ˘
itâs not like i already learned the choreo to it or anything
A N D Â W E â L L Â B R I N G Â I T Â R I G H T Â U P
âI was in BRIGADOOOOON in high school and i FUCKINâ KILLED ITâ
âfucKING GROSSâ
the (honestly downright chilling) Tip Song Reprise
on that one bit thatâs like âjack, jaCK, jACK, JACK...â
man i got CHILLS
âwhose decision was it to line an alleyway with SHRUBSâ *walking through audience*
think about the I M P L I C A T I O N S
*bill jumping out of a trash can* âNO ITâS NOT ALL RIGHT PAULâ
âwe were just at beanieâs---â *ted, jumping out of the trash can*: âYOU DIDNâT INVITE ME!!!???â
âuhh, fuck you?â
âsheâs the....the barista, from beanieâs? ya know, the.......l a t t e h o t t i e .....â *regrets so hard he astral projects into another dimension*
*soothing tone* âwe have to get out of downtown okay? downtown is FUCKED.â
âwe cannot split up, ok? i am a presbyterian, i am not gonna die in your dirty-ass methodist church.â
âwho is it?!â âprofessor hidgins???â âdonât lie to me, whoever you are. IâM professor hidgins.â
âthis is paul, and....them.â
âi theorized this exact scenario THIRTY YEARS AGOâ
âEmma!! what does this look like to you?â âi dunno, some kind of blue...shit???â
âEXACTLY! what the Fuck⢠is this Shit????â
âted,,,youâre such a Horny Bastardâ *dramatic slow motion gasps*
ted and charlotte really just decided to Fuck right there didnât they
the audience screaming when ted and charlotte decided to Fuck right there
*sam suddenly rises from the dead* âCHARLOTTEEEEâ *charlotte screams*
ânow, iâm gonna free up your heart, baby...â (proceeds to LITERALLY RIP OUT INTESTINES)
that short bit where heâs holding charlotte bridal-style with all the guts and shit...little shop of horrors WHOMST
âI AM GONNA......KICK YOUR HEAD.â
âshow me that rOuNDhOusEâ
emmaâs monologue about her sister...holy shit.
âwe hated you guys.â âwe hated ourselves! :Dâ
âit is time.....TO DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANCEâ
âyou killed charlotte!â âi shot a charlaTAN!â
the attempt at singing moana
bill quietly singing âcircle of lifeâ in the background
whoever wrote these monologues is going off too holy SHIT man
âi will NEVER...be in a FUCKING musical.â
â...and suddenly, iâm defending Grace Chastity of all people!â
billâs devotion to his daughter actually kills me he deserved so much better
âdid you know that i wanted to live with you? but when you needed to fight, you gave her that too.â OUCH.
âiâm not gonna let you die.â *bill immediately gets shot*
the army sound effects
âSpecial unit P-E-I-P, we call it PEIP.â âiâve never heard of you guys.â âand you never will. not a PEIP.â
âdo you like coffee, son?â  âyes sirâ  âDo you like musicals, son?â  âno sirâ  â...now thatâs a goddamn red-blooded american *aggressive salute*â
âits 2018.......â
âmy first love was..and always will be..*reveals keyboard* M U S I C A L T H E A T R E!!!!âÂ
a moment of appreciation for the most dramatic seat ever taken at a keyboard
SHOW STOPPING NUMBER!!!!!
â....mind if i give you the pitch?â âwe donât have time---â âfuckinâ GO FOR IT!â
Working Boysâ˘
â...........aNd cHaDâÂ
TEDâS SO INTO THIS GODDAMN PITCH SJBKHJHD
F I V EÂ OÂ C L O C KÂ C A N TÂ C O M EÂ S O O NÂ E N O U G H
âshould I take this chair????â
âBYE! Fuuuuuuuuck that...â
helicopter actingâ˘
âF U C K Y O U, H A T C H E T F I E L D!!!!!â me too lauren
Zoeyâs (somehow even creepier) reprise of the tip song
the Kiss Attempt
âwatch out paul...he might kick your head.â
âNEVEEEEERâÂ
jonâs acting during âlet it outâ was genuinely creepy, i LOVED IT
when the music started for âinevitableâ my heart fucking DROPPED
âemma, do you believe in ghosts?â CHILLS, man. chills.
the reprise of every song in the show in the middle of âinevitableâ
the KICKLINE
emma screaming during said kickline
âthe apotheosis is upon UUUUUUUSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!â
lauren staying in character during curtain call
âWHY ARE YOU CLAPPING????â
basically The Guy Who Didnât Like Musicals is a godsend and you all need to watch it Now okay thank you
#starkid#the guy who didn't like musicals#tgwdlm#starkid productions#lauren lopez#nick lang#joey richter#jon mattenson#jamie lyn beatty#apotheosis#watch it guys#jeff blim#corey dorris#robert manion#mariah rose faith
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The First Date
You, Jesse and Hanzo go on your first date! Fic is PG-13.Â
Link for AO3:Â http://archiveofourown.org/works/10464945/chapters/23570373
Hanzo and Jesse have left it up to you to decide where youâd be going on your first date. Being a person who is no good at making decisions, this was more pressure than actually being asked out on the date itself. You are currently sitting at home in your own apartment watching your phone as the notifications go off one after the other. Being in a group chat with the two of them is a trip:
âââââââââââ-
Jesse: where
Jesse: do
Jesse: u
Jesse: wnana
Jesse: go!
Hanzo: Stop spamming.
Hanzo: Let her think, smh.
Jesse: im right here if u wanna fight me
You: IDK
You: Iâm really down for whatever!
Hanzo: Where do you like to go during your free time?
You: My room?
Hanzo: -_-
Jesse: im calling u
âââââââââââââ
And he does, less than a couple of seconds after you had received that text. You stare at the screen with a shit-eating grin while itâs ringing, and let it go to voice mail.
âââââââââââââ
Jesse: answer ya damn phone plz
Hanzo: Donât cuss at her.
Jesse: answer ya darn* phone plz
Jesse: also fuck u han
Hanzo: Hmmm. Interesting for a person who just asked me to make dinner.
You: Somebodys bout to starve!
You: Also sorry! I had lost my phone very suddenly :/ Â
ââââââââââââââ
Your phone starts to ring again, and you wait until the last possible moment to answer it. You donât even have to say a thing; Jesse just starts going off in your ear, âHey, now listen! Iâma count tehâ three, and when I count tehâ three yourâ gonna say the first place that comes to mind alright?â
You let out a long, dramatic, heavy sigh, making sure to blow air into the phone as much as possible. Â
Jesse laughs, âAlright here we go! One! Two! Three-â
âZoo.â
âAh shit, Han! We goinâ to the zoo!â
âNo, no, no wait! Letâs try that again!â
Jesse hangs up the phone.
âââââââââââ-
Jesse: no take backs Â
Hanzo: I am excited! Iâve never been to the zoo!
You: We shouldnât go to the zoo that was stupid
Jesse: nu uh! we going!
Hanzo: Why is it stupid? Now I really want to go!
Jesse: pick u up on friday!!! wear zoo clothes!!!!
You: WTF are zoo clothes
Hanzo: What she said.
Jesse: clothes u wear to the zoo???
Hanzo: Hmmm true.
You: Whatever! Fine! I guess weâre going to the zoo
Jesse: u bet ur ass
Jesse: shit
Jesse: butt* Â
Hanzo: Weâll pick you up around 9am. Is that okay with you?
You: Pfff yeah.
Jesse: see ya friday!
âââââ Â
Friday rolls around, and you guys go to the zoo. Itâs the perfect day for it; the sun is out, and itâs partially cloudy. Thereâs a light cool breeze that feels amazing on the skin. After thinking about it, youâve actually come around to the spontaneous idea that Jesse had to coax out of you. You guys take your time at each exhibit. The zoo isnât very crowded at all, and nobody cares that you guys take nearly thirty minutes at each. Hanzo does dramatic readings of the facts on each of the placards, putting on what he likes to call his âtour guide voiceâ.
When you guys get to the Red Fox enclosure you and Jesse listen while Hanzo reads. At the end, Jesse raises his hand, âUm excuse me, Mr. Shimada? May I ask a question.â
âAll questions are welcome, Mr. McCree.â
Jesse points to the cage, âWhy are they called Red Foxes?â
You can see Hanzo try and suppress a laugh, and you try to suppress yours as well. Feigning like you, too, would like to know why Red Foxes are named Red Foxes. Hanzo is trying to remain in character, âMr. McCree, if you can do me a favor and look at the animal?â
âMhmm, yes.â Â
âThe fox has red fur.â
Jesse places his hand on his chin and nods his head up and down, âUh huh.â
âSo it is called the Red Fox because well; it has red fur.â
You canât keep up the act anymore. Hanzo says that last line with such conviction and a matter of fact tone that you are doubled over, and clutching your stomach laughing. Jesse refuses to give up the act. He looks down at you, his cowboy hat casting a shadow over his face.
âDarlinâ, whatâs so funny? I donât understand.â
Hanzo keeps it up as well, âSir? The Red fox. Red is a color. The color of the foxes fur is red. Therefore, Red Fox.â Â
Youâre still doubled over wheezing. A small crowd has actually started to stare, thinking that Hanzo is an actual expert and tour guide. They believe that Hanzo, a man who is wearing unbelievably tight joggers and a navy blue tee shirt that says, âChoose Cremation. You Urned it,â is a god damn professional, articulately explaining to a cowboy why a Red Fox is called a Red fox. Jesse sees the curious onlookers and decides that maybe itâs time to end the charade, âAh, I get it now, and yaâ know what? Thatâs a pretty dumb fuckinâ fact.â
Jesse throws an arm around your still shaking shoulders, tosses his other one around Hanzoâs, and you guys all walk away from the confused onlookers. Eventually, after marveling at the big cats for nearly an hour, you guys make it into the reptile house. Here is where you figure out that Jesse really doesnât like spiders and that Hanzo couldnât care less. You do care a little bit, but the thick plexiglass between you and the arachnids is enough to keep you from being irrational like Jesse is being.
âCan yâall stop puttinâ your faces so damn close to the glass?â
You smile coyly and rest your cheek against the glass, Hanzo follows suit and places his cheek against the glass as well, âTake a picture, Jesse.â
Jesse crosses his arms and pouts, âYâall think yourâ funny huh?â
You grab your phone out of your pocket and turn on the camera, âGuess weâll just have to take a selfie.â
The spider that is in the little glass case is clinging to the other side, showing off its belly and legs. Perfect for the photo op. You and Hanzo point to it and smile nice and big for the camera, while you hold your phone in your other and snap a photo.
Hanzo says, âMake sure to send that to me in the group chat.â
Jesse is glaring at Hanzo, when you notice one of the workers is trying to get any of the customer to listen to what she has to say about whatever it is she is presenting, but sheâs getting no takers. You walk towards her and look into the large, deep, open plexiglass tub that she is standing next to. Your eyes widen and you start to cackle. Oh, this is gonna be good!
âHey Han! Jesse! Come here!â
You watch closely has they look into the glass enclosure. Hanzo now has the biggest smile, and Jesse takes one glance and literally runs off about twelve feet.
The workers face lights up, âHello! Would you guys like to hear about this tarantula?â
The look that Hanzo gives her almost looks like he might abandon the two of you and take her out on a date; he is so happy. Â
âI would absolutely love to hear about this tarantula!â
The woman practically dances, because she is delighted to finally have people who want to listen to her. She clasps her hands together and starts to spew off all of the knowledge sheâs got on the spider. Hanzo listens and has questions for her, and she is able to answer everything. Meanwhile, Jesse is in the background huffing and making off-handed comments like, âInterestingâ and âWow, real fascinatinâ.â When the spider starts to stretch its legs and move around, you lean in farther to get a better look.
âHey! Sugar? Maybe donât do that! That thing is gonna get your face.â
The tarantula handler finally turns her attention to Jesse, âOh no! Honduran Curly Hairs are docile tarantulas. Also! Tarantulas canât jump that far. A fall from where her face is at to the bottom would actually seriously hurt the curly.â
Jesse does his best at being polite, âThanks for the knowledge maâam.â
At this point, Hanzo is practically inside of the enclosure, and youâve reached your limit. Any closer, and youâd be pushing your comfort zone. The woman clasps her hands together, âI am so sorry! I havenât asked for your names yet!â
You both introduce yourselves and take turns shaking her hand, âHanzo! Seeing as you seem to be the most interested, would you like to hold her?â Â
Jesse claps his hands together, âHan! You put that spider in your hands, and we are breakinâ up!â Â
Hanzo puts his hands together, palms up and lowers them into the enclosure; âItâs been nice knowing you, Jesse.â
Jesse is still squirming, but it seems this is something he just has to see. He gets just close enough to be able to look in. Heâs standing right behind you, looking over your shoulder, and heâs got two nervous handfuls of the back of your shirt. You reach back and pat his thigh, âThere, there. Itâll be alright!â
The woman first coaxes the tarantula into her open palm using what looks to be a soft bristled paint brush. Itâs funny watching her gently nudge the brush against the creatures big furry butt. It slowly crawls into her hand, and you can physically feel Jesse tremble. You look back at him, âJesse, just one of your hands are at least two times bigger than this tarantula is. This tarantula canât do shit to you.â
âDarlin, I ainât tryna say youâre not right, but that doesnât keep the little critter from being real creepy.â
Hanzo isnât paying any attention to the two of you. He is concentrating on the spider that is now crawling into his welcoming hands. It stays there, cradled, its two front legs feeling along the tips of his fingers. Hanzo is still smiling, âThank you for letting me hold her.â
The woman continues to light up, âAre you kidding me? You are very welcome. Iâm so happy you guys took time out of your day to hang out with me and listen to me ramble about this. Tarantulas are my passion.â
After a couple more tarantula facts, Hanzo places the creature back down into its habitat, and you guys make Jesse very happy by deciding itâs time to move on. The three of you continue to stay close to each other as you visit the rest of the exhibits. When youâve officially seen them all, you guys go back to gawk at each of your favorites. When hunger strikes, you guys stop at a little cart that specializes in soft tacos. You watch in amazement as Hanzo orders six and downs them all. You guys donât leave the zoo until you are forced to, because itâs closing time. The three of you leave feeling the good kind of tired, all having found a new favorite place to be.
#poly hanzo/jesse#hanzo shimada x reader#jesse mccree x reader#jesse mccree#hanzo shimada#ovw#poutypanic writes
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